


• love in the dark •

by widowhunt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 4k+, 5 + 1, 5 Times, F/M, Marauders' Era, barebones editing because i was too impatient to post this to tumblr, crossposted to tumblr, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:56:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widowhunt/pseuds/widowhunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He lightly takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, though she hadn’t voiced anything to be reassured of. “This will get better.” </p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>•••</p>
<p>written for @thenoiseandthefunk on tumblr, who requested: "five times James chickened out on asking out Lilly, and the one time Lilly just did it herself"</p>
            </blockquote>





	• love in the dark •

**Author's Note:**

> This was not initially intended to be 4k+ words, but then I got halfway through and began to wonder if I could turn this into a multi-chapter. I have yet to decide on that yet, but I still have to get myself in gear to evaluate my other oneshot ("misdial") regarding making it a multi-chapter, so... #priorities. One of these days!

##  _**1.** _

She’s sitting at the Gryffindor table, poring over her heavy Transfiguration textbook, when James goes down to the Great Hall for breakfast that day. It’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and for once his Head Boy badge isn’t pinned to his chest. He takes a seat next to her, reaching over her book obnoxiously for the tray of waffles, and she gives him a little scoff. 

"Do you  _mind_ , James?” He knows she’s just jokingly irritated, because there’s a curve to her lips that he loves to see (even if it’s not so rare). 

"Well," he says, inhaling through his teeth and putting an over-exaggerated spin on his voice. "My waffles are on the other side of you, so yeah, I do mind." 

"Oh,  _excuse_  me, I didn’t realize I was such a hindrance to you and your true love,” he imagines that this is where she would have retrieved the tray for him—but instead, she just steals a waffle and takes a bite out of it. 

He makes a dramatic gasp and she laughs at what is undoubtedly the most offended expression that’s crossed his face. “ _No_ _syrup_. How dare you. Blasphemer.”

She just takes another bite out of her improperly dressed waffle, as if to make a point. James takes that point as  _don’t tell me what to do_. Knowing Lily, that’s precisely what she wanted him to take from it. 

A group of giggling witches passes by their table, clad in discordant House colours—he spots a Gryffindor with a Slytherin, and at least one Hufflepuff in the bunch—and exits the Great Hall, no doubt heading for the town. A lump forms in his throat, and he has to clear his throat three times before he can force himself to speak. A nervous sweat has broken out across his brow and in the palms of his hands. That’s unfortunate. 

"So, Lily … going to Hogsmeade today?"

She looks up with those pretty green eyes and raised auburn brows, registering the question. Then she shrugs. “Wasn’t planning on it, but undoubtedly Marlene will send me a Patronus later on. I need to study.” She pulls a face, nodding down at the textbook, and James feels like she’s bonked him over the head with it.  _Duh._  Why else would she have brought it down to breakfast? 

Abort mission. Abort, abort, abort. Don’t ask her out today, James, she has plans. 

“ _Right_ ,” he says, resting his forearm on the table and swallowing the question in his throat. She returns to her reading, and a pause ensues—comfortable on her part, awkward on his. Thankfully, he thinks, she doesn’t seem to notice that he’s struggling with himself. Does he attempt to make small talk? Should he offer to help? No, she might take that as an insult, she’s plenty smart herself … 

“Well then,” he says, voice slightly more strangled than usual, “I’m off, see you later.”

“Righty-o, have fun at Hogsmeade. I’m stealing your Honeydukes.”

As he all but sprints out of the Great Hall, he fails to notice the smile that she barely tries to fight down.

##  **_2._**

It’s a very bad idea to make a public display of asking a certain redhead out, which is why James doesn’t decorate the common room with  _GO OUT WITH ME, EVANS?_ banners. Not that he ever would have, but after the disaster that was OWLs, he supposes there was a little bit of doubt to that effect. 

In any case, he’s sitting in the common room playing a muggle card game by the name of Solitaire with Exploding Snap cards, which is by far the stupidest idea he’s had in a long time, but he still has his eyebrows. He’s taking it, and he’ll call it the luck of the draw. Not that anybody else is, judging by their occasional wary expressions. He’s certain that the group of first years sitting by the fire have placed bets on how long it takes for the inevitable to happen. 

The inevitable, as the word suggests, does happen, and he feels like going to bury his head in the sand until it blows over (or until he at least has his eyebrows back), because of  _course_  they would wait to explode until Lily had spotted him. 

“James!” she calls, detouring from the portrait hole, and just as he looks up,  _poof._ He inhales a cloud of smoke and a few flecks of ash just as he’s about to speak, and his words turn into a hacking cough. 

“ _Merlin_ , James, are you alright?” 

He pauses in his hacking to wave a hand, trying to signal that he’s perfectly fine, though he’s not quite certain of whether or not that’s true, himself. He can just imagine the look of sheer disbelief on her face, and he has no other choice but to, seeing as his eyes sting every time he tries to open them. What he also can’t see: she’s taken out her wand and cast a non-verbal spell in his direction. His vision clears, and he’s able to breathe properly once more. 

“Thanks,” he chokes out, lifting a hand to rub at his throat. “Bloody cards.”

“To be fair, you were sort of asking for it. Were you playing Solitaire?” she asks, peering at the layout of the remaining cards with a raised brow. 

“That I was,” he says, ignoring that first part because wow, way to bruise a guy’s ego. Even if he’s perfectly aware. 

“You’re a berk,” she says, punctuating it with a roll of her pretty green eyes. 

“Yes, but I’m  _your_  berk.” 

Instantly, he realizes exactly what he just said, and mentally, he starts kicking himself. They’re not even dating, he’s far from “hers”, and besides, who says that she would even appreciate that? He waits for the impending explosion—or, not explosion, but definitely a very awkward moment. Which is, in James Potter’s mind, something synonymous with an explosion when it comes to Lily Evans. 

But it doesn’t seem to come, so … while he’s making a complete fool of himself … no time like the present? 

“Lily, would you like to go—” nope.“— _to the kitchens_?”

_Now_  is when the awkward moment begins, with Lily’s brow raising and head cocking. She takes a second to process his stupid question, and then says:

“But we just had supper?”

##  **_3._ **

“Back to your common rooms, both of you. Ten points from Slytherin and Ravenclaw for breaking curfew.”

She noticeably refrains from repeating why they had even broken curfew to begin with, but the two girls round the corner and it’s a moot point anyway. Hogwarts’ Head Girl stares off after them, then sighs and turns back to her colleague-in-rule-enforcing with a resigned expression. 

“You know as well as I do that they’re just going to go find another broom cupboard.” 

Lily sounds as exhausted as she looks, and James can’t help but laugh. It was true. Most students would heed their command and turn in for the night, however humiliated they may be for being caught with their hands in each other’s shirts (or other garments they may or may not be wearing), but those two … neither James nor Lily knew them personally, but they had the look about them. The one that shouted that they would not do as they were told. 

As a Marauder, James respected that. As Head Boy, he sort of wished that they just wouldn’t. 

“Nobody’s requiring us to chase them down,” he says, after a moment. “For one, that’s not in our job descriptions, not to mention that we can’t police every single student in this school. If they want to break curfew, they can go right ahead—we’ve done what we can, short of bodily escorting them to their common rooms.” 

“You’re right. ‘Sides, I’ve never really wanted to see the interior of the Slytherin dorms.” 

Which, he suspects, isn’t entirely true, considering who her best friend used to be. It’s not something that he wants to call her out on, though, because ever since OWLs, Slytherin house has been something of a sore spot for her, even if she wouldn’t admit that, either. 

Though, it’s quite possible that Slytherin house has always been a sore spot for her, and James had just been too much of an idiot to realize it. There were some times that he really regretted the decisions he made when he was fifteen. 

The incident at the lake had technically been when he was sixteen, but that was, possibly, one of the things he most regretted in his short life. Lily had been right about him; he  _was_  an arrogant toe-rag, and attacking Snape simply because Sirius had been bored was one of the most immature and unnecessary things that they had ever done. He had been glad afterwards that Lily had finally dropped Snape, but … at what cost? 

They had provoked Snape, only furthering the stupid roundabout of revenge between the two houses (in retrospect, the Slytherins would never pass up an opportunity to take that responsibility upon themselves, but that didn’t mean James and Sirius had to do it  _for_  them), and ruining a friendship. It had really hurt Lily, in multiple ways. For a long time, it seemed as though she would never speak to them again. 

That was his biggest regret about the whole fiasco.

“Lily?” he says, though he hadn’t been planning on saying anything. Ah well, too late now. 

“Yes James?” 

“Am I …  _different_?” 

She frowned, turning to face him as they walked along the deserted corridor. “What d’you mean?” 

“Well,” he says, struggling for words that he hadn’t bothered to line up in his head. “You said once that you’d rather …  _go out_  with the Giant Squid over me—this isn’t a proposal,” he adds quickly, upon seeing the bewildered expression upon her face, “but I’m wondering … have I changed?”

It seems to dawn upon her, exactly what he’s talking about, and she sighs. Turning her head to face the end of the corridor again, he begins to regret asking. He must have, or else she’s just thinking about the circumstances in which she said that. 

Finally, she sighs. “I know you’re thinking it, so let me nip it right in the bud—I never hated you. I thought you were immature, certainly, but everything I said to Snape was exaggerated. He’s the one who spread that idea ‘round the school, because he thought he could keep me all to himself, even when we were kids. But I never actually  _hated_  you. When I said that … I was angry, sure. Who wouldn’t be? You were bullying my friend for … what? Because you were bored? Stupid reason, mate. 

“I never actually  _meant_  it, though, aside from the moment. Afterwards, I realized it was overkill, but my pride got in the way of apologizing to you for it. So, I’m sorry—and as for your question … yes, you’re different. You’ve grown up since then. It’s a good look on you.”

He could kiss her, but the timing is so hilariously awful that all he can do is nod. They walk along in silence until the alarm charm he’d placed on his watch beeps, signalling the end of their patrol, and they head for the common room. And just before they part ways for their separate dormitories, James calls for her, barely louder than a whisper. 

“Lily.”

“Yes James?”

“… Thanks.”

##  **_4._ **

One time in sixth year, Lily had spent so much time in the library that she had missed a full day of classes in favour of studying for those classes. Afterwards, she had claimed that she had only meant to spend her free period in there, but had gotten so absorbed in her texts that she lost track of time. For her, it wasn’t too far-fetched—but it had still taken an hour to find her, even with the Marauders Map, simply because nobody had expected her to forgo classes for the library. Then, it had taken an hour to coax her down to dinner. 

Later, it had turned out that she had been hit with a Confundus curse from behind, and thanks to the alcove in which she had sat, not even Madame Pince had noticed. 

Needless to say, when Lily didn’t turn up for Double Transfiguration, James was worried. 

“Marlene,” he hisses, leaning over his desk to get closer to the blonde. “ _Marlene_ —”

“ _What_?” 

“Where’s Lily?” 

She shrugs a shoulder unconcernedly, as if it’s no big deal that her muggleborn best friend with a nearly spotless attendance record just didn’t happen to show up for class. “She said she was going to be here, but she was pretty tired this morning. I guess she just decided to catch some shuteye. Good for her, I say—one lesson won’t be the end of the world.” 

“Merlin, Mal,” he says, trying very  _very_  hard not to groan in McGonagall’s class. “Did she at least go off with someone, or was she alone?” 

Marlene’s eyes widen almost comically with the realization that James was trying to get her to have. “ _Shit—_ ”

“ _Potter. McKinnon_. If your conversation is more important than my class, you’re welcome to continue it outside.” 

* * *

They skive off of their next classes—Arithmancy for James, and Care of Magical Creatures for Marlene—and the first place they check is the library, to no avail. They recruit Sirius to scour the Map for her and use their two-way mirrors if he finds her, and twenty minutes after they leave the library, James hears his name from his pocket. 

“ _James, I found her_.” his voice sounds grave, and James feels his heart drop to the floor. 

“Where is she?” 

And then he hears it. The worst sentence of his life thus far. “ _Dungeons, near the Slytherin dorm; Avery, Rosier and …_ my brother _are there too.”_

* * *

In the end, she winds up in the Hospital Wing for four days, unconscious for one and a half of them. If it weren’t for classes and Quidditch practice—the latter of which, James would have been glad to cancel entirely if Sirius hadn’t bullied him into going, under the pretence that it would get his mind off Lily’s condition—he would have sat with her twenty-four-seven. He’s lucky to be with her when she wakes up. 

It begins with a twitch of her fingers that he almost misses. Then, so long passes that he begins to wonder if he had only imagined it. 

She makes a groan of effort. Her eyes flutter open. 

“ _Lily_ —how do you feel?” 

There’s a terrible moment of silence where all she does is look around, eyes wide and blank. They settle on his face, searching, a crease between her brows. 

“… Who’s Lily?” 

For the second time this week, he feels his heart drop to the ground. “What—what do you  _mean_ , who’s Lily? C’mon, Lil, you’ve got to kno—” he stammers, eyes mirroring her own. 

This can’t be happening. After everything that they’ve gone through—the stupid rivalry, getting to know each other better, the late nights in the Head Students’ office talking about school, the war, the _future_ —only to have her wake up and not remember any of it. Back to square zero. 

Until the corner of her lips pulls upwards. 

“You— _Lily_ —that wasn’t  _funny_ —” but as upset as he seems, there’s a wave of relief washing over him. 

He doesn’t mean to semi-tackle semi-pull her into a hug, but it happens anyway. He’s just so happy to see her awake that he can’t really stop himself. 

“Nice to see you t—ooh, James, ouch—ribs,” she laughs. “How long have I been out?”

“Day and a half. The Slytherins attacked you in the dungeons, by the time Mal and I got there, you were beaten up pretty bad. Pomfrey mended most of your superficial wounds, but they used Dark curses and their magical signature lasted almost twenty-four hours. Which is,” he says, exhaling as he does, “pretty short, for a Dark curse. Anyway, she says you have a broken rib or three, but by now they should just be bruised. Internal wounds are harder to fix, apparently.” 

“You lot haven’t gotten back at the Slytherins, have you?” 

“Besides the complete arse-whooping we gave them once we got there? No, but Sirius is itching to get at Regulus. We think …” he sighs, brows knitting together. “We think that your attack was an initiation for Regulus. Into the Death Eater-wannabe club.” 

There’s a long pause, where Lily is visibly trying to process this information. One hand lifts to rest on her abdomen, where James knows there’s a bandage stopping the one long cut that remained from bleeding. It was a Dark curse that made it. Weak in nature, but strongly cast. It was the one flesh wound that wouldn’t heal with magic. 

Finally, she lets out a low whistle. “Heavy stuff.”

All he can do is nod. The atmosphere of the Hospital Wing had darkened considerably, settling on their shoulders like a weight. A cold, clammy weight that they couldn’t lift alone. 

He lightly takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, though she hadn’t voiced anything to be reassured of. “This will get better.” 

“I know.”

##  **_5._**  

##  _PROS OF TELLING LILY:_

                            • Being honest  
                            • Does she like me too??? I can’t tell but   
                            • She might  
                            • Being honest is always good  
                            • Mum and Dad want to meet her “properly”  
                            • But that’s probably not a good enough reason

* * *

The Heads’ office was the only place safe enough to contemplate something like this without being barged in on by his mates—if Sirius knew he was  _making a list_ , of all things, and allowing it to significantly sway his decision about whether or not he should finally tell Lily about his feelings, he would take the mickey. But James had been thinking about it for so long that he thought it would really help. 

Merlin knew that his own head wasn’t helping one bit. 

Looking at it now, the list isn’t helping him all that much either. What he knows is that he’s tired of keeping everything locked up inside when all he wants is just to get it off his chest. He wants to have an excuse to brush her hair out of her face when it gets in the way. He wants to be able to spend the rest of his life with her, and maybe that’s presumptuous—if it doesn’t work out like that, fair enough. But he at least wants to try. 

The only problem is that, well, he doesn’t know what the risk he’d be taking is. Oh, he’s used to risks, thanks to the previous six years with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. They’re just always clearly defined. 

Prank the entire school at the beginning of term feast? Get a month’s detentions, give or take a few weeks. Sneak out to Hogsmeade through the One-Eyed Witch passageway? Fine, they could get a year’s long detentions, if not kicked out. Run around with a werewolf every month? Okay, so they could get severely injured, or even killed. It’s nothing. They have contingency plans for everything. 

But nothing’s ever predictable with Lily, other than the fact that she’s a funny, headstrong, independent,  _beautiful_  witch. She gives James a run for his money, she’s an intellectual match for him. He wants to keep her safe, but he knows that she’ll never just lie down and take that, because no matter what she does in this war, she’s a target. He knows she wants to fight in this war after they leave Hogwarts. If he can’t keep her safe, he at least wants to be by her side through it all. 

Groaning, he lays his head on his arms, hunched over at the desk at the side of the room. All this is doing is frustrating him more—and he still doesn’t have an answer! Not even  _close._  

“Tired, are you?” 

He shoots straight up, eyes locking on the subject of his personal dilemma as she walks—no,  _glides_ —through the door of the office. There’s something funny about her image, though, and he realizes that there’s one and a half of her because his glasses are askew.

Reaching up to place the arm back on his ear, he grins. “Not a bit—well, yes, a little bit, but I swear that’s just because History of Magic is one of the most dull classes I have ever sat through. I’d say Binns needs to retire, but secretly, I think he’ll probably just work himself to death.”

“That’s grim,” she says, plunking herself on the desk opposite him, and he can feel his heart thumping strangely as he tries to subtly cover the paper with his arm. 

“Maybe, but you know it’s true. Anyway, what’re you doing here?”

“Heads’ office, James,” she says, cocking an eyebrow. “But really, I’m just dropping my things off before lunch. I have a free period and I’d rather like to get the January rota due before the hols.” 

She stands up, leaving her shoulder bag on the seat as she does. “See you at lunch? You’re not skiving, are you?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t pass up lunch. I love the house elves, but I don’t have time to visit the kitchens until late this evening.”

“Right. See you then!” 

He doesn’t relax until the door’s shut behind her. 

* * *

##  _CONS OF TELLING LILY:_

•She really might not feel the same, and what a   
                              fiasco that would be  
                            • Might make things awkward for Head Studentship  
                            • My heart might exit my chest and flop around on   
                              the ground from nerves

* * *

The crumpled list bounces off the edge of the wastebasket and falls onto the floor as James leaves for lunch. 

##  **_+1._ **

“Oi! Potter!”

The colour in James’ face drains as Lily’s voice echoes through the Great Hall, attracting the attention of many a student who either bears curiosity over why the Head Girl sounds so upset, or who remembers the last time she yelled at him. 

The boy in question clambers off of the Gryffindor bench, turning to face the freckled girl as she walks with purpose, making a beeline for him. It’s been a long time since she’s addressed him by his surname. Honestly, he’s bewildered about what he could have done in order to make her so upset in the span of the ten minutes since she last saw him in the Heads’ office. 

She comes to a stop about a foot away from him, and for somebody so short, she is rather _imposing_  upon his six foot one self. Then again, she’s always been gifted in that area. 

“Lily, what—what did I do?” 

Nobody ever said he wasn’t straightforward. 

“You know what you did.” 

He chances an exchange with Sirius, as though he’ll know what exactly has slipped James’ mind, then looks back down to her. 

“Sorry, I really don’t.”

There’s a paper in her hand that he hadn’t noticed before, and at first, he assumes that it’s a Head Boyship requirement that he lied about doing, but no. He really has done everything that was asked of him, at least as far as paperwork went … 

She smooths out the wrinkles in the parchment, shoving it into his chest. His eyes fall upon the writing, and his uncharacteristically pallid complexion drains further. It’s the list he had written and tossed out, and he knows that not telling her so soon was probably for the better, if her reaction is anything to go by.

“This was not how I wanted you to find out, I  _swear_ —” 

His protests are cut short when she grabs the collar of his robes, pulls him down to eye level, and presses her lips to his. It takes a moment to sink in that she’s kissing him,  _she’s really kissing him_ , because this kind of thing has only ever happened in daydreams cut short by practical thinking and the determination to not get his hopes up but he kisses her back, Great Hall be damned. 

How long has it been? Seconds? Minutes? Days? He certainly couldn’t tell despite the fact that he’s wearing a watch, because Lily’s encapsulated him; her feel of her skin, her sound of her breath, the scent of her light perfume has absorbed him. He is hers, after years of acquaintanceship, then friendship, and this moment has been too long coming, if one asked any of the seventh year Gryffindors. 

They part when someone near them clears their throat, and to his horror, it’s McGonagall. Of all the people. 

“The Great Hall is a place for eating, not public displays of affection, Mister Potter, Miss Evans.” 

But there’s a contained smile on their professor’s face, and James thinks that maybe, just maybe, she thought it was a long time coming too. 


End file.
